Three Brother's Story
by BastetAzazis
Summary: Three brothers succeeded in deceiving Death once, but they ended up finding out that she would never be conquered. Crossover between two tales from Harry Potter and Sandman.


**Three Brother's Story**

Written by BastetAzazis

_**Sum**__**mary:**__ Three brothers succeeded in deceiving Death once, but they ended up finding out that she would never be conquered. Crossover between two tales from Harry Potter and Sandman._

**DISCLAIMER:** _A Tale of Three Brothers _was written by J.K. Rowling for _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ was written by Neil Gaiman for the _Sandman_ series. None of the characters taken from these stories are mine, unfortunately.

**BETA-READE****R: **Ferporcel, thank you very much!

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_She is the divider of the living from all that has gone before, all that has come after. It is whispered in dreams that one day in every century she takes on mortal flesh, the better comprehend what the lives she takes must feel like, to taste the bitter tang of mortality: that this is the price she must pay for being __**Death**_

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_Wendell Hill_

_June__ 23__rd__, 1593_

The three brothers were floundering exhausted, walking up the small road which took many travelers away and back from all corners of England. They were in a quite green field with few trees, the warmth of an imminent summer and their hard five-day-walking journey were starting to make them doubt their intent.

The oldest brother wanted only to venture into the world, defeating enemies and becoming an invincible wizard, feared by everyone of his species.

The middle brother wanted to run away from his village, forget his past and show to everyone the greatness of the wizarding kind.

The youngest brother followed his older brothers looking for new experiences; there was nothing better than to learn new things. He wanted knowledge.

They finally stopped when a broad, deep river with a strong watercourse crossed the road.

"It's here," said the oldest brother, dropping the heavy bundle where he carried his things to the grass.

"How do you know?" asked the youngest brother. "That woman didn't seem trustworthy to me."

"Woman?" the oldest brother repeated, turning back to his brother as if he was hurt by what he'd heard. "It was a man! You have your head in the clouds, as always."

The middle brother only sighed as the other two continued with their fool argument. Did they know that the three of them had met Desire? Who, if not one of the other six Endless, would be capable of telling them how to find Death and defeat her? And who better than himself to recognize Desire? He, who had been touched by him/her once before and, like everyone who had succumbed to his/her tricks, was now fighting not to fall in the realm of his/her twin sister, Despair? Desire had told them they would have to cross a river to meet Death, and the middle brother knew that his and his brothers' desire to defeat Death was strong enough for him/her to accepted and hear their supplications.

"If this is the river," the youngest brother was still arguing with his older one, "how are we supposed to cross it? It's too deep to continue by foot, and we are too tired to beat the watercourse and swim to the other side."

"We do have to cross it," the oldest brother insisted.

"Stop arguing like two Muggles!" the middle brother finally interrupted the other two. "We are wizards! If we join our magic, it will be easy to build up a bridge and then safely cross the river.

His brothers didn't reply; he was right. With their three wands pointed toward the riverbank and some enchantments, a bridge made of some crawling plants and tendrils started to grow, crossing the river and ending on the other side. The oldest brother was the first to test it.

"It's safe," he yelled from the middle of the bridge.

The other two brothers followed him, but they stopped the moment they reached their oldest brother, who was still turned to them.

"What's up?" he asked to them, who were suddenly paler than death.

The middle brother just pointed forward, and the oldest brother turned to his back; a hooded figure was blocking the way. She took off her hood, and the three brothers looked open-mouthed to a waist-long, curly black-haired witch wearing black robes and the symbol of life hanging from a small cord around her neck. Death smiled.

"Hi there," she said in a cheery tone. "I come here several times, but you were the first ones who have succeeded in beating this river.

The oldest brother smiled to himself. He had finally conquered the worst enemy.

"Very well," Death went on, "I think I can give you some more time, since you've succeeded in deceiving me…."

She seemed to be pondering for a while. The three brothers were surprised with the beautiful woman standing in front of them; she seemed rather happy for being Death, cheated by three brothers. Or maybe they were really smart, smarter than the Muggles who use to travel in that region.

"I'll give a gift for each one of you," Death eventually stated. "What do you desire the most?"

The three brothers looked at each other, but it was the oldest of them who spoke first, a smirk growing up on his lips,

"I want a new wand. A wand capable of wining any duel," he added defiantly, "a wand worth of the wizard who have deceived Death."

Death only nodded and didn't say anything else. She reached out her arm to a near elder tree and a branch fell, lifeless. It was impossible for the brothers to evaluate if she had walked to the tree at the riverbank, faster than their eyes could notice, or if she had always been there, because Death was always everywhere.

With a small touch on that rough branch, she gave life to a new wand and hand it over to the oldest brother.

Then, the middle brother stepped forward. To have Death give him a new wand, a wand capable of defeating her, was still not enough humiliation to compensate everything Death had taken from him. He wanted more, he want Death's own power. With an arrogant smile, the middle brother asked for his gift.

"I want to have the power to nullify death, to call back those who were taken from me." Because it was how he thought he would be her equal, or even superior than Death.

The witch, who seemed as old as his younger brother, lowered herself and took a rock from the floor – or the rock had always been in her hand? It was difficult to say.

"Here it is," she said, offering the rock to the middle brother. "Now this rock has the power to bring whoever you want back from death."

His eyes sparkled, and the wizard retrained his gift inside his robes.

It was the time for the youngest brother to ask for his gift, but he remained in silence.

"And you, my dear?" Death instigated him. "What will your gift be?"

Head down, the youngest brother looked up to the woman who claimed to be Death. She was very beautiful, but he remembered his mother had alerted him once about the tricks of beautiful women. Besides, he didn't think right to play with Death, and something was telling him that she could want to chase them after this meeting. After much reflecting, the youngest brother eventually answered, "I want something which allows me to continue my journey…"

Death seemed to smile and blink at him, or was just his imagination?

"...without you being able to follow me," he finished.

Death nodded, but this time she didn't smile. She took off the cloak with the hood she was wearing when she found them and gave it to the youngest brother. At the moment he put it over his shoulders, he was invisible.

The three brothers almost didn't believe in their luck as they saw Death step aside for them. They crossed the bridge and continued their journey, telling and re-telling their adventure, admiring their gifts.

The three men who were walking through the road became tiny shadows when a soft voice emerged from behind the woman who was following them with her look.

"You, my sister? Playing little games with mortals? I thought only our younger sisters did that."

Death turned back and smiled to her brother. Dream was always the most responsible member of their family, tied to his duties.

"They need to understand that, one day, their lives will come to an end, and I can't do anything about that," she answered.

The night-colored eyes of Sandman looked curious, he had never understood the concern, sometimes even care, with which his older sister dealt with mortals.

"But what brings you here, my brother? At the summer solstice's eve, at the Wendell Hill?" she asked distrustful.

"Do you remember of one of your days as a mortal? That time when you obligated me to go with you and interact with mortals, so that maybe I could be able to understand them better?"

"Sure!" she answered cheerfully; Dream interacting with mortals was something you didn't hear very often, not after that unfortunate accident with Nothing. "We met some pretty interesting people that day, didn't we? How's Robert?"

"Since that day, I have been meeting him every hundred years. Robert wasn't very happy the last time I saw him, but nevertheless he didn't give up living." Death seemed to smile when she heard news about the man who had simply chosen not to die. Sandman kept going with his explanation without regarding his sister. "However, I made a good use of my permanence amongst mortals to order a play from an actor I had met in that same pub. It should be performed tonight, for the fairies.

Death burst into laughter.

"You, my brother? Playing little games with mortals?" she repeated his question. "I thought only our younger sisters did that."

"This is not a game," Sandman answered annoyed. "I've owed a gift to Lady Titania for a long time."

"And you have entrusted it to a mortal actor?" Death asked, frowning in concern. "Be careful, my brother, the fairies don't respect mortals."

"Is you who should be careful, my sister. It's not prudent to give gifts to mortals," Sandman replied. "From the moment those wizards figure out the value of the three hallows they are carrying with them, they will be able to rule you."

Death only smiled.

"You don't really get the mortals, do you, Dream?"

"I'm just worried because this is not typical of you. It seems more like a trick from Desire, or Delirium."

"Don't underestimate our younger sisters, Dream," Death scolded him. "Yes, Desire is involved in that, although in a distant future she will learn her selfish attempt to defeat me will actually save the life of many wizards."

"Now you're talking like our oldest brother," Sandman joked.

"Yes," Death answered, "I've been in Destiny's gardens before meeting with those three wizards. It's funny how, even being blind, Destiny always knows the right way in his labyrinth.

Death was interrupted by the murmur coming from a bunch of artists who made their way through the road. Around fifty men were coming toward them with many wagons, which probably would become a stage and sceneries for their plays. The actors stopped some miles away from them, and a man walked in Sandman's direction, although he couldn't see them yet.

"Sister, if you need my help to recover your hallows-" Sandman began.

"No, Dream," she interrupted him. "The oldest brother will loose his new wand soon, as he will instigate the envy in his enemies. And the second brother will find out soon that my gift is useless and will ask for my help."

"But, what about the youngest brother? You gave him your cloak-"

"Aww... he was really cute, wasn't him?" Death answered before her brother could finish his sentence. "No hallow can return to me anymore now that I've spread them, it will probably pass to their descendants until the time for it to be used comes."

– Oh... ele era realmente adorável, você não achou? – Morte respondeu antes que o irmão terminasse a frase. – As relíquias não poderão mais voltar para mim agora que eu as distribuí, provavelmente passará para seus descendentes, até chegar a hora de ser usada.

"But if he is invisible, you'll never-"

"Don't worry, Dream," Death interrupted him one more time. "Everyone has its time, even you and me. It will come the day he will resolve the invisibility cloak should be passed to his next generation."

Sandman kept silent. The man he was waiting for was pretty close now and soon he would be able to see them.

"I have to leave you, my sister," Sandman dismissed himself with a bow. "Will Shekespear is waiting for my next instructions. Soon, the fairies will come to appreciate their play."

"Then," Death answered, blinking, "say 'break a leg' to Will!"

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"Hey! Come back here!" the oldest brother yelled in the darkness of the bedroom he was occupying in the village's pub as he had discerned someone sneaking out through the door left ajar.

He tried to run after the invader, but a known voice made him give up. "You aren't going to catch him."

The man turned toward the voice, it was her indeed. Then he moved his eyes toward his bed. His body was still laying there, his throat cut and blood was flowing from the sheets to the floor.

"So is this my end?" he asked to the woman he had met once the week before. "The invincible wizard is dead by a knife through his throat?"

"Yes," she answered. "A wand, even the most powerful of all wands, still doesn't make a wizard invincible."

"But I had so little time... Is this dying?"

Death shrugged and reached out her arms, a reassuring smile on her face. "Yes," she answered.

"I thought it would be worse..."

"Everybody does," she said. "Shall we go?"

The wizard reached out his hand, too, touching Death's, and they both left the room.

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After the adventure with his two brothers, the middle brother decided to return his own home. It took almost a month of hard walking, but at last he arrived. He dropped down his things in a corner of the house and sat down on his small bed, watching the rock he had earned from Death.

He still couldn't believe a bare little rock would be capable of bringing his love back, but he only turned it in his hand trice and he saw Death wasn't lying.

He looked up and the woman that would have been his wife was staring at him. However, she wasn't the young lady with bright, lively eyes whom he had fallen in love with. She was sad; her eyes had no brightness, and it was as if a thin veil was setting them apart. He reached out his hand to touch her, but he couldn't sense her soft, savory skin. She was cold; she was a living-dead, sad and disconsolate because she couldn't get closer to her love, either.

The middle brother got mad. He knew it wasn't worth living if he couldn't beat Death, if he couldn't touch his beloved another time. Looking to the faint shadow of his former fiancé behind the veil, he understood he just needed to die to have her again. He raised his wand and pointed it to himself; the last thing he saw was a green flash toward himself.

"You've lied to me," he said when Death came to take him.

"No," she answered. "The rock really can bring back the dead, but they will never belong to the mortal's world again."

"Am I going to see her again, now?"

Death smiled. "Yes, I think so."

The wizard nodded and touched Death's hand, listening only the sound of her wings.

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At his deathbed, that who once was the youngest brother observed the witch next to the window. It seemed he had been the only one in the room who had noticed her presence, and she was just as beautiful as in the day he had met her for the first time, almost ninety years ago.

He was surrounded by his children and grandchildren. His wife had already left some years ago, it was his time to leave life and depart for another adventure. His son would use the cloak with wisdom, and he didn't need to hide from Death anymore. He closed his eyes and it seemed everyone around him had disappeared; only Death was still standing next to the window.

"At last," she said with a smile, "you have decided to stop hiding?"

"I just wanted to be sure my children would be okay," he answered.

"They will," she assured him. "Shall we go?"

They both gave hands and left as old friends, therefore he was the only one of the three brothers who knew he didn't need to fear Death, that it was impossible to defeat or conquer her. In the end, after so many years trying to run away from her, Death became his best friend.

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End file.
